


Presuming Ed

by jundoe, maxxdick



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jundoe/pseuds/jundoe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxxdick/pseuds/maxxdick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out at the border, no backup, mission going south. There's something not quite right about this man, but Mike Warren is rapidly running out of options... A standalone 'Mike goes solo' episode of <i>Graceland</i>, featuring a...<i>miserably</i> familiar OC, in script form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration of sorts, largely talked out over drinks and self-indulgence. Graceland tropes shoveled in with relish, but whether it's parody or homage is up to you... Technically pre-slash in our personal timeline, so still at the gen stage, but it's definitely flirty, and Mike does get felt up by a guy at some point. Ideally placed as a filler episode in Season 1. The script is roughly about the same length as - and formatted as - an average hour show - so fill in the ad breaks mentally as the 'acts' progress...
> 
> Related to both this [fanart](http://wallshipjournal.tumblr.com/post/88505194475) and this [Marius/Enjolras music video](http://wallshipjournal.tumblr.com/post/68712120780) where we close with the implication that their 21st Century reincarnations are somehow respectively an MI6 and FBI agent liaising with each other in Southern California. :|

** TEASER **

**FADE IN:**

** EXT. BARREN WASTELAND - LATE AFTERNOON **

MIKE walks along the dusty track, duffle sack slung over a shoulder. He has been walking for a while, the strong afternoon sun beating down, throwing his downcast face into shadow, glinting off his tousled hair. For miles around, there is nothing but dry grass and sand - beyond that, the Mexican border - until, in the middle of nowhere, finally appears his destination: a rundown shack and a series of lean-tos.

A few members of the Mexican gang are gathered under a lean-to, having lunch. A GANG MEMBER #1 pulls apart from his colleagues and rises to greet Mike as his steps slow to a stop. The gang member closes the distance.

 

**GANG MEMBER #1**  
(strongly accented)  
So you’re the new gringo. You took your time.

 

**MIKE  
** Not late, am I?

 

The gang member shakes his head impatiently.

 

**GANG MEMBER  
** No, no - the other one isn’t here yet.

 

Right on cue, because we only have forty minutes in an episode, the RUMBLING OF A TRUCK heralds the arrival of a battered pickup. The pickup draws right up to the pair.

 

**GANG MEMBER**  
_Hablando del rey de Roma…_  
(to Mike)  
You meet Eddie. He’ll take you there.

 

Mike freezes momentarily at the name. The gang member returns to lunch. Mike can hear the window SQUEAK as it rolls down, then a hand extends into his view.

 

**EDDIE** (O.S.)  
(with a thick Southern twang)  
Hey there. I’m Eddie.

 

Mike flicks his eyes upwards warily: pale, freckled face, choppy brown hair, bright green eyes and an awkwardly wide grin. Nothing like the dark memories lurking in the back of his head. He finally turns his head up, face in the sun for the first time, and smiles, reaching up for a firm handshake.

 

**MIKE  
** I’m Mike.

 

** END TEASER **


	2. Act 1

** ACT 1 **

** EXT. BARREN WASTELAND - LATE AFTERNOON **

The pickup rumbles across the sand and dirt.

 

** INT. PICKUP CAB - LATE AFTERNOON **

Mike sits shotgun, arms around the duffle bag in his lap as the truck bounces uncomfortably across the bumpy ground. Eddie swings the wheel with nonchalance, long used to the rickety rhythm of travel across the wasteland.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(eyes on the road)  
So what brings a nice city boy like you to the border?

 

 **MIKE**  
(glancing warily at Eddie before speaking)  
The usual story. Turf war gone wrong. I shanked a man - turns out he was a big shot. They’re still looking for me. Hell, I don’t wanna die, y’know?

 

Eddie grins sharply, eyes crinkling, never once looking away from the road.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You could still die out here.

 

Mike openly stares at him, assessing whether it’s a challenge or just banter. He smiles slyly.

 

 **MIKE  
** You’re still alive, I think I’ll make it.

 

Eddie laughs. A SHARP LEFT - unprepared, Mike is jostled, eyes wide, clinging to his duffle.

 

 **EXT. OUTSIDE WAREHOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON**  

The pickup pulls up outside the dilapidated warehouse with a squeal of brakes. The sand around here is marked by a series of fire pits. Eddie hops out of the cab and SLAMS his door, going round to offer a hand. Mike ignores it in favour of the cab-frame, slinging his duffle back onto his shoulder as he lands.

 

 **MIKE  
** Thanks.

 

Eddie withdraws his hand with an amused, crooked smile.

 

 **EDDIE  
** My pleasure. I’ll take you to the boss.

 

Mike trails after Eddie as he leads him to the warehouse.

 

** INT. MENDOZA’S OFFICE - EVENING **

While the flimsy corrugated iron walls and grilled floors are no different from the rest of the massive warehouse, it’s obvious that this is the room where the important decisions get made. Filing cabinets line a wall, labeled samples of powders and weed another. The centrepiece is a large, worn desk, piled with papers. MENDOZA sits behind this: he is not a physically imposing man, stout, on the shorter side, but his steely eyes hint at the danger underneath. He takes another pull of his expensive cigar as he sizes Mike up.

Mike stands in front of the boss, duffle still over his shoulder, eyes cast down, then blinking up, blasé. Farther behind him, Eddie leans against the doorframe.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** So, Mike. Paul tells me you can help us, hey?

 

Mike nods.

 

 **MENDOZA**  
(nodding in return)  
You help us. We help you. Paul tells me you’re on the run. Need to disappear. No one looks out here. What did you do?

 

 **MIKE  
** I killed a man.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** A man? _Joder!_ What is that? That is nothing. We kill men every day.

 

Mike’s gaze flickers, but he continues evenly.

 

 **MIKE  
** He turned out to be important.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** An important man. What is the difference? Paul sends me children. Nevermind. You can help us, that’s good enough. We will make you disappear. You are safe, hey? Ask Eddie. You ask Eddie what he did! Then you know. Hey, Eddie?

 

Eddie barks a sharp laugh. Mike glances over his shoulder momentarily, fingers tightening around the duffle strap uneasily.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** Stay with Eddie. He’ll tell you what to do.

 

Mendoza waves a dismissing hand, looking back down at the papers before him.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** You go.

 

 **MIKE  
** Yes, sir.

 

Mike turns, staring warily at Eddie, who beckons to him with an easy smile on his way out the door. A moment’s pause, and Mike follows.

 

** EXT. OUTSIDE WAREHOUSE - NIGHT **

By the time Eddie is done showing Mike to his room and bringing him around the drug production facility the warehouse has been converted into, night has fallen. The gang members have set up the regular mess area outside, and campfires crackle as people line up for dinner rations. Eddie queues and nudges Mike in line behind him.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You’ll start tomorrow.

 

Mike nods absently. They wait in silence. When they receive their share - some sloppy concoction of meat and beans - Eddie leads him to one of the unoccupied fires. Eddie sits, a lanky mess of limbs, as he digs in, patting the ground beside him. Mike slowly folds himself up, a little distance away. He moves the food on his plate around with the tin fork. Uncoordinated Spanish songs drift over from the other fires as he tries a bite and chews contemplatively.

 

 **MIKE  
** So…

 

 **EDDIE**  
(mouth full)  
Mm?

 

 **MIKE  
** What did you do?

 

Eddie half-laughs, half-chokes, and shakes his head as Mike rises to help, putting up a staying hand. When he finally swallows his food, he smiles.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Mendoza didn’t make it half easy for me, did he?

 

Mike smiles politely.

 

 **EDDIE**  
Things are different in the south, y’know?  
(pause)  
In my defense, she didn’t look fourteen.  
(pause)  
And you could say I killed those guys in my defense, too.

 

His smile widens darkly. He doesn’t take his eyes off Mike. Mike remains silent for a moment, before slowly nodding, and breaking the eye contact by looking down at his food.

 

 **MIKE  
** Cool. 

He pops a forkful into his mouth.

 

 **MIKE  
** No wonder Mendoza thinks I’m a rookie. You didn’t make it half easy for me.

 

 **EDDIE  
** I didn’t exactly plan it, if that helps.

 

Mike laughs, but the undertone of unease remains. He nods and looks back up at Eddie with a wry smile. Eddie is smiling too, but his eyes give nothing away.

 

**FADE TO BLACK.**

**FADE IN:**

** INT. MIKE’S ROOM - MORNING **

It’s a sorry excuse for a room: a closet’s space, a dirty mattress pad on a rusty frame, his duffle in the corner next to the foot of the bed. Nevertheless, Mike is curled up on his side, sound asleep, when the bare bulb in the room is snapped on, and a spray of water LASHED across him from a plastic bottle.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Rise and shine, sweetheart.

 

Eddie is much too amused by this, flicking the bottle once more as Mike jolts up with a start.

 

 **MIKE  
** S-stop that!

 

His hand is raised to block his face from the third jet, but his shirt is already half-soaked. Eddie laughs. Mike glowers for a moment before reaching for his phone.

 

 **MIKE  
** Jesus, what time is it?

 

 **EDDIE  
** Eight. But that’s like past-noon here.

 

Mike shakes his head, putting his phone down and getting to his feet. He hadn’t meant to oversleep, but the late night had been made later by the careful keying of his report home. He moves to take off his shirt, but pauses and shoots Eddie a look.

 

 **MIKE  
** A little privacy?

 

Eddie grins and raps the sheet wall with his knuckles. They CLANG hollowly.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Privacy? The walls ain’t even real. What are you, a lady?

 

Mike rolls his eyes, but peels his shirt off, recognising the challenge. The smile remains on Eddie’s face, but his eyes coolly inspect the bare skin, noting the unusual absence of scars - save the one slash on the left side. He doesn’t say anything about his observation, but sweeps an elaborate bow to usher Mike, carrying a change of clothes and some toiletries, out of the room to the wash racks.

 

** END OF ACT 1 **


	3. Act 2

** ACT 2 **

** EXT. OUTSIDE WAREHOUSE - DAY **

The pickup rumbles away into the wasteland. Mike is going to be following Eddie around today to pick up the ropes, before being sent on another distribution route in a week or so. The syndicate doesn’t need to know he hardly intends to stay around for that long.

 

**WORK MONTAGE**

\- Five short sequences of Eddie talking to their dealers, Mike obediently waiting behind him, occasionally glancing around like a bodyguard, starting from the barrio and appearing progressively inner city, intercut with the pickup rumbling onwards to the next destination.

\- Three sequences of unloading product from the pickup, hidden amidst construction supplies and under false boards.

\- Two sequences of passing the product to their dealers.

\- We end on the pickup driving away down a city road.

 

** EXT. FALAFEL STAND - AFTERNOON **

The pickup pulls up to a falafel stand against the side of a building. There is a queue, but the bench next to the adjacent basketball court is unoccupied. The sound of a bouncing ball and calls from the court mingle with traffic noises in the background. Mike follows Eddie curiously as they disembark and head towards the queue.

 

 **MIKE  
** What’re we doing here?

 

Eddie laughs.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Lunch, dummy.

 

He cranes his neck and points at the empty bench.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Why don’t you wait for me over there? Bit of a queue, but it’s worth it.

 

Mike acquiesces, slightly flustered by his misstep. He sits on the far side, glancing back to check Eddie’s place in line, then pulls out his phone and sends a few key missives. By the time Eddie comes along with a pita in each hand, the phone has been discreetly replaced. Eddie hands a pita over as he settles next to him.

 

 **EDDIE  
** On me. It’s good stuff - oh, watch the balls.

 

Eddie laughs as Mike fumbles a little with the falafel, slightly flushed when he finally takes a bite. He chews slowly, eyes widening as he discovers it is indeed good stuff. Eddie is on his third bite, but he hasn’t looked away.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You’re pretty cute, aintcha? You don’t look like no gangbanger.

 

Mike blushes momentarily, but he doesn’t dare meet his gaze, more wary than outright embarrassed.

 

 **MIKE  
** Huh. What do I look like?

 

Eddie shrugs and finally looks down at his pita.

 

 **EDDIE  
** I dunno. You don’t look like you’ve killed a man, though.

 

Mike smiles gingerly.

 

 **MIKE  
** Honestly? Now I wish I hadn’t. But you’d be surprised.

 

Eddie looks back up at him with an easy smile.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Yeah?

 

Mike just laughs. They continue eating in silence.

 

** EXT. STREET CORNER - LATE AFTERNOON **

The pickup pulls into a back alley. A dealer, BRUNO, stands on the deserted street corner, clearly unhappy. Eddie hops off, heads to the back of the truck to pull out a package, and approaches carefully, Mike following a few steps behind him.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Bruno.

 

 **BRUNO**  
(growls)  
Thought you’d never come.

 

He grabs for the package, Eddie gives it over quickly, raising his open hands slightly. The package RUSTLES as Bruno unwraps it and stares at the content - a beat.

 

**BRUNO  
** _ PUTA _ _!_

 

He shoves the package back at Eddie, gesticulating wildly in anger.

 

 **BRUNO  
** This is not what I asked for - you know /I need -

 

 **EDDIE**  
(interrupts at /)  
Yes, I told Mendoza, but Mendoza said -

 

 **BRUNO**  
(interrupting, draws his gun and aims point blank at Eddie)  
You tell Mendoza I said -

 

A SHOT rings out, Bruno YELPS - he’s unhurt, but his gun has been shot out of his hands. Eddie, still holding the package, slowly turns his head to look at Mike, who is wielding his smoking gun, eyes wide.

 

 **MIKE  
** I thought he was gonna shoot you.

 

Eddie nods. He turns back to Bruno, who remains silent, clutching his hand, eyes travelling between the two in fear.

 

 **EDDIE  
** I can tell Mendoza you said you’re done, or you can take this.

 

Bruno reaches out to take the package, staring, motionless, as they return to the pickup, doors slamming shut.

 

 **EDDIE (O.S.)  
** Good shootin’.

 

 **MIKE (O.S.)  
** Thanks.

 

** INT. MENDOZA’S OFFICE - EVENING **

This time, Eddie is the one in front of the desk, as Mike waits at the door. hands behind his back, at loose attention, as he watches.

 

 **EDDIE  
**...so everything’s about the same. Had a little trouble with Bruno, but Mike had my back. Rookie done good, he’s ace with a gun.

 

Eddie glances back at Mike with an approving smile as Mendoza chuckles. Mike can’t help but flash a tight, little smile in return.

 

 **MENDOZA**  
(making a note on his papers)  
Bruno. He is trouble. We watch him - maybe we drop him.  
(he shrugs)  
Maybe kill him. Bring Mike again next time, hey?  
(he tilts his cigar at Mike with an obscenely jovial grin)  
Bruno makes trouble, he can kill him.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Well, he won’t have no trouble with that.

 

Mike smiles uneasily. Mendoza nods, waving his cigar and dropping his head. They are dismissed. As Eddie heads towards Mike, there is a strange, very faint SCREAM from somewhere below the room, from the direction of Mendoza’s desk. Mike’s eyes widen - Mendoza shows no sign of having heard - Eddie’s face does not change, but before Mike can say a word, his hand closes strongly around his elbow, and he drags Mike out of the room and shuts the door behind them.

 

 **MIKE  
** What was that?

 

 **EDDIE**  
(steadily, eyes boring into Mike’s)  
What was what?

 

It is obvious that was a statement, not a question, and Mike knows better than to push. He shuts his mouth and looks down, following mutely as Eddie walks away.

 

** INT. MIKE’S ROOM - NIGHT **

Mike is sitting up on his bed, tapping in a brief - he’s not prepared for Eddie swinging his door open, and has to hastily switch screens as he looks up, wide-eyed but trying to act natural.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Hey.

 

 **MIKE  
** Hey. 

 

He swings his legs off the bed, putting his phone down, to his side, as Eddie invites himself in and sits next to him.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(gesturing at the phone)  
Your girlfriend?

 

 **MIKE**  
(wry half-laugh)  
Yeah, right. Just a buddy. He helped me get out here, wanted to know if I’ve kicked it yet.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Don’t think he gotta worry if you got a gun on you.

 

Mike shrugs, looking down and smiling with false modesty. He is tense, waiting for Eddie’s intentions, wary he might suspect.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(looking up at the bare bulb)  
I just wanted to thank you.

 

Mike glances over tentatively.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Reckon if you hadn’t been there, it mightn’t have ended so well for me.

 

 **MIKE  
** I’m sure you can take care of yourself.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(smiles wryly at Mike)  
Yeah?  
(pause)  
Don’t think I’m as good a shot as you.  
(looks him up and down)  
You still don’t look like much of a gangbanger, but you sure showed me. Don’t judge a book by its cover and all that, huh?

 

Mike maintains the smile, but his fingers curl slightly around his phone. After a moment, Eddie breaks eye contact, swinging his gaze around the room thoughtfully.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Say. You wanna fool around?

 

That was not what Mike was expecting. His mouth falls open, but he rectifies that after a beat and tries to play it cool.

 

 **MIKE  
** I thought you were into underaged girls?

 

Eddie swings his gaze back with a roguish grin.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You don’t look that old, yourself.

 

Mike means to retort, but stops, frowning in confusion. He can’t even be sure the other man isn’t younger than him. The whole situation has thrown him for a loop. Eddie is amused. He laughs.

 

 **EDDIE  
** C’mon, you seriously didn’t see this coming? Haven’t you heard the boys talking ‘bout your pretty face?

 

 **MIKE**  
(he definitely blushes)  
No.

 

 **EDDIE  
** I don’t believe you’ve been in a gang all your life and you ain’t never been hit on by a guy.

 

There is something about the bluntness in Eddie’s tone that brings his guard up, and Mike can’t help but feel he’s missed a beat. He tries to bluff it off.

 

 **MIKE  
** Yeah? I’m sure they kept their thoughts to themselves after they’d seen my aim.

 

Eddie puts his hands up.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Whoah there, is that a threat?

 

 **MIKE  
** No. But it could be.

 

Eddie starts to back off off the bed.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Relax, I ain’t about to do anything you don’t want me to. I take it that’s a no, then?

 

 **MIKE  
** No. 

 

Eddie shrugs. C’est la vie.

 

 **EDDIE**  
Well, alright. Sorry I asked.  
(pause. The grin returns as he approaches the door.)  
But just so you know, offer’s always open.

 

Mike stares at him with big eyes, assessing the situation. He relents a tight-lipped smile.

 

 **MIKE  
** I’ll think about it.

 

Eddie quirks his lip and winks as he exits, closing the door behind him.

 

Mike visibly relaxes. He shakes his head, slightly at a loss. He still isn’t sure what to think about Eddie, but he hopes to be out of this place before the man becomes a problem. Retrieving his phone, he returns to the original screen and keys a final text in.

 

**MIKE (TEXT)  
** _I’m moving in tonight._

He hits ‘send’.

 

**FADE TO BLACK.**

** END OF ACT 2. **


	4. Act 3

** ACT 3 **

**FADE IN:**  

** INT. MENDOZA’S OFFICE - NIGHT **

Everything is still and dark, save a weak desk lamp left on, dimly lighting Mendoza’s table. There is a soft RATTLE at the door.

A moment later, it finally opens - Mike sweeps a once-over through the crack, and slips into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He creeps to Mendoza’s table, noting the documents, some plans, some dates, but being careful not to disturb anything. He cranes his head to look under the desk. Urgently, he moves the chair out of the way and crouches: there is a grate. The grate itself is rusty, but the edges are smooth. It has obviously been in use. This must have been where the scream had drifted up from. He is willing to bet anything that the latest shipment of trafficked immigrants - the true target of his mission - would be found somewhere through this hole. He prepares to lace his fingers through the grill to pull it up...and is stopped short by the telltale CLICK of a gun. He freezes.

 

 **EDDIE (O.S.)  
** Yep.

 

Mike slowly raises his hands to his shoulders. He doesn’t look, but he can sense Eddie’s gun trained on him, unrelenting as the man slowly circles the table till he is on his right.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Sweet little Mikey. I knew you were trouble. Gangbanger, my foot.

 

Mike doesn’t move.

 

 **EDDIE  
** I like you, Mike. I don’t wanna hurt you. But I can’t let you jeopardise my operation. I’ve been at it too long for that.

 

Mike can hear him take a closer step.

 

 **EDDIE**  
Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.  
(starts to walk towards Mike)  
The easy way is -

 

As soon as Mike hears the continuing steps, he throws himself under the table and draws his gun, rolling out and pointing it at Eddie, who quips as all this is going on:

 

 **EDDIE  
** I see it’s gotta be the hard way!

 

Guns aimed at each other, they take careful steps till the table is again between them, Eddie behind it, Mike with his back to the door. They stand in silence, till Eddie finally speaks.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(deliberate)  
Mike.

 

 **MIKE**  
(returns the tone)  
Eddie.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

 

 **MIKE  
** Who are you?

 

 **EDDIE**  
(a thin smile)  
Who  sent you?

 

 **MIKE  
** I don’t know what you mean.

 

 **EDDIE**  
C’mon. A gangbanger? You gotta learn to lie better than that. Shanked a man? You didn’t even hurt Bruno - you shot the  gun outta his hand. Know what they call that in a gang? A waste of bullets. ‘Sides, you look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth and -  
(alarm suddenly crosses his face, and abruptly his Southern accent drops for a suspiciously British)  
GET DOWN!

 

Mike’s eyes widen, but he wastes no time in doing as he’s told. Eddie fires instantaneously, there is a SHOUT with the ECHOED GUNSHOT - to his shock, Mike can feel a bullet clip his leg, and for a moment he wonders if Eddie had played him. But of course not - he looks instinctively behind, and the door is ajar, a gang member groaning on the floor, gun to a side.

 

 **MIKE**  
(hisses)  
Shit.

 

He scrambles to his feet, gun drawn, limping slightly, and finds Eddie flanking him. They are working in concert now, united by the common enemy of the increasing ranks of gang members beyond the door, unwilling to enter, but knowing they had the two of them trapped.

 

Mike glances frantically around the windowless room, then at Eddie’s focused face for a fraction of a moment. He returns his attention to the guns beyond the room.

 

 **MIKE**  
(mutters)  
The grate.

 

Eddie nods.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Cover me.

 

Mike moves in front as Eddie scrambles back, but the guns don’t respond -

 

 **EDDIE  
** Ah, damn.

 

And in a moment it becomes clear why. Mike glances back at Eddie, double-takes, and drops his gun. There is no point. There are already three pointed at them from the grate.

 

 **MENDOZA (O.S.)  
** And that’s why -

 

Mike and Eddie turn to the door as they hear his voice. The ranks part for Mendoza to enter, speaking.

 

 **MENDOZA  
** \- I say don’t trust gringos. Shame on you, Eddie. I thought you were one of us, eh? Why you do this, huh? ‘Cause he suck your dick? _Joder!_ I could have given you any girl you want. The young ones also.

 

A gun-toting GANG MEMBER #2 pipes up.

 

 **GANG MEMBER #2  
** Boss, we kill them?

 

Mendoza pauses, thinking.

 

 **MENDOZA**    
No. Not yet. A couple of gringos - we can use them. Tie them up. Jorge - you watch them tonight. Tomorrow we take care of them.

 

With a gesture, Mendoza is gone, his lackeys moving, shoving Mike and Eddie towards the door.

 

** INT. EMPTY ROOM - NIGHT **

An empty room with another bare bulb overhead. Mike feels slightly insulted that this room is twice the size of the one they had assigned him - but then, there is a rusted pillar running through the middle of it. A pillar their hands are tied to, back to back. Their ankles are also bound. They sit in silence under Jorge’s watchful, strangely sullen gaze.

 

 **JORGE**  
(explosively)  
 _PUTA MADRE_ _!_

 

The young man abandons his post, striding out of the room, as if to cool down. The click of a lighter, and some faint Spanish muttering, drifts into the room, but nothing that can be made out. Eddie waits a moment more, then when it becomes clear Jorge isn’t coming back immediately, he speaks as he begins to fiddle with the ropes around their wrists.

 

 **EDDIE  
** Just couldn’t take a hint, could you? I had it all sussed out - pretty damned sure he was gonna ask me to help with this batch. You just had to waltz in here and mess it all up.

 

Mike is listening, but he has other things on his mind, looking troubled as he, too, attempts to free his wrists. After a moment, he says.

 

 **MIKE  
** You’re MI6.

 

Eddie is still for a moment. When he speaks again, he has dropped the Southern accent for the impeccable British that had reared its head briefly in crisis.

 

 **EDDIE  
** What gave that away, FBI boy?

 

 **MIKE**  
(automatically)  
I’m not -

 

 **EDDIE**  
(interrupting)  
Get off it.

 

Mike sighs and deflates a little. He tries again.

 

 **MIKE  
** What’re you doing all the way out here?

 

 **EDDIE**  
(tartly)  
That’s none of your business, Mikey. Try: ‘how do we get all the way out of here?’

 

 **MIKE**  
(pouts)  
Fine. How?

 

 **EDDIE  
** That depends. First of all, I refuse to believe that between America’s and Her Majesty’s finest, we can’t get free of a pair of ropes. Can you reach my knots?

 

 **MIKE**  
(warily)  
I don’t know.

 

Eddie rolls his eyes.

 

 **EDDIE**  
Fine, fine, vice versa is fine. Can you just - alright, that’s good.  
(works on Mike’s left wrist as he talks)  
I know Jorge - he’s impulsive. And more importantly, I know he fancies your arse -

 

 **MIKE**  
(mutters)  
Jesus Christ.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You try being stuck in a warehouse full of blokes for months on end. If we get your hand loose, we just need him to come close enough and -

 

They hear Jorge’s FOOTSTEPS - he’s coming back.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(hastily)  
Shit. Just play along.  
(a little louder, Southern accent back on)  
God, you  slut \- I shoulda known better than to let you get to me!

 

Jorge enters, frowning, slipping a pocket knife back into his pants. His eyes are red - it’s obvious it wasn’t just a cigarette he was smoking.

 

 **EDDIE  
** You said you wanted me, you whore!

 

He hasn’t stopped working on the knot, but he also takes the opportunity to prod urgently at Mike’s hand, reminding him to play along. Mike is obviously uncomfortable with all this, but Jorge is looking visibly disturbed, and neither of them have missed the knife.

 

 **MIKE  
** What did you expect?

 

Another prod.

 

 **MIKE**  
(gamely adds)  
Your cock isn’t even that big.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(spits)  
BITCH. God.  
(nods at Jorge)  
Jorge, buddy, do me a favour - mess this slut up for me. I just can’t believe I - ah, damn. I don’t care what the hell you do, just make him regret it.

 

Jorge steps closer. Mike looks up at him, wide-eyed with trepidation. He can also feel the rope around his left wrist has loosened a fair bit from its original tension. Jorge shakes his head.

**JORGE**  
(gravely)  
I thought better of you, Eddie.

 

Not that he sounds like he thought better of him.

 

 **EDDIE**  
(bitterly)  
If only you heard the way he was begging for my dick, friend.

 

That seems enough to tip Jorge, already buzzing, over the edge - he abruptly drops to one knee, leaning in to rip Mike’s shirt open.

 

Mike’s half-suppressed CRY is not entirely feinted, but still he waits till the man is in just the right position before he KNEES him in the groin, and pulls his left fist up to PUNCH him out before he can scream.

 

Mike reaches forward to rummage in Jorge’s pocket, pulling out the knife and flicking it open. He cuts his ankles free first, then rolls over to free his right wrist before moving on to Eddie’s.

 

 **MIKE**  
(hissing, plaintive)  
That was so lame.  So. Lame.

 

Eddie is mindful of the time and not too pleased he is still mostly bound, but he can’t help a chuckle.

 

 **EDDIE**  
It worked, didn’t it?  
(nods at Mike’s half-open shirt)  
Nice tits, by the way.

 

Mike growls, but does cut him out faster. As they get to their feet, Mike pockets the knife and shakes out his bloodied hand, scraped raw by the ropes.

 

 **MIKE**  
(irritably)  
Now what?

 

 **EDDIE  
** We run.

 

Mike shoots him an unimpressed stare, but needs no urging as Eddie makes for the door.

 

**FADE TO BLACK.**

** END OF ACT 3. **


	5. Chapter 5

** ACT 4. **

**FADE IN:**

** EXT. OUTSIDE WAREHOUSE - NIGHT **

Their subtle escape hasn’t gone quite as planned. They slip out a side door, bedraggled and heaving pants. Behind them, they can hear the CLATTER and SHOUTS in the warehouse - they’ll have company soon.

 

**MIKE**  
(frustrated)  
How the hell do they keep catching up?!

 

Eddie glances down at Mike’s leg. When he speaks, his tone is teasing, but he’s serious.

 

**EDDIE  
** They’re probably following your blood trail.

 

**MIKE**  
(snaps)  
They’re probably following your noise.

 

Mike is extremely aware that Her Majesty’s finest is unscuffed, and the difference between them rankles. Eddie starts jogging forward even as he continues.

 

**EDDIE  
** Shall I carry you? I could do that.

 

**MIKE**  
(follows, hissing)  
I’d crush you.

 

Eddie’s lip twitch in a smirk as he approaches the pickup.

 

**EDDIE**  
Overestimating yourself, I think.  
(opens the driver’s door)  
We’ll take the truck.

 

**MIKE  
** Oh, that won’t be easy to track.

 

**EDDIE  
** Trust me. Get in.

 

Mike is already halfway up. The doors slam shut and they roll out as the first few gang members catch up, CURSING, and make for the other vehicles.

 

** EXT. BARREN WASTELAND - NIGHT **

The pickup zooms past the collection of lean-tos that was Mike’s first stop. Some time later, an assortment of trucks and jeeps follow. Finally, the dust settles down to silence again.

Eddie and Mike cautiously peer out of the shack, and step out to collapse on the step, leaning against the wall.

 

**MIKE  
** I hope you filled it up.

 

**EDDIE**  
(waves a hand)  
It’ll go for a while.  
(pause)  
Still have your phone?

 

**MIKE**  
(shakes his head)  
They took it.

 

**EDDIE  
** Huh.

 

**MIKE**  
(wearily)  
It was wiped. I’m not that dumb.

 

**EDDIE**  
(quirks a smile)  
I didn’t say anything.

 

Then he heaves himself up and extends a hand.

 

**EDDIE  
** Come on, we can’t wait around. I know where we can find a phonebooth.

 

Mike’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, then he steels himself and takes the hand, struggling to his feet. His leg is a little the worse for wear, and he doesn’t resist when Eddie takes his arm and slings it over his shoulder. They limp off into the distance.

 

** EXT. LONE PHONEBOOTH - VERY EARLY MORNING **

The sun has not yet risen, but the pale glow of twilight is in the air. Eddie sits on the side of the deserted road, next to the phonebooth where Mike is making his call.

 Eddie looks into the distance, arms on his knees. He doesn’t look back, but does smile as he hears:

 

**MIKE  
** This is Special Agent Mike Warren -

 

Mike catches himself and frowns down at Eddie, turning away so that all that can be heard of the rest of his call is too quiet to decipher. Eddie doesn’t move. Eventually, the call ends, and Mike drops down to sit next to him.

 

**MIKE  
** Just so you know, if you hadn’t messed things up, I’d have finished it up by now.

 

**EDDIE**  
(mildy)  
Pretty sure that’s my line.  
(pause)  
So, your folks are coming?

 

**MIKE**  
(stretches out)  
Yeah. My team should hit the warehouse in twenty. Someone’ll be by to pick me up.

 

Eddie stands.

 

**EDDIE  
** Then that’s my cue to disappear.

 

Mike starts to stand, but Eddie puts a kindly hand on his shoulder to stop him. Mike slumps and smiles wryly up at him instead. He obviously means to say something, but pauses, glancing down before looking up and trying again.

 

**MIKE  
** Will you be okay?

 

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

 

**MIKE  
** Your mission, I mean.

 

**EDDIE  
** It’ll be fine. Same outcome, generally. I’ll just tell them the Feds arsed it up first.

 

Mike laughs quietly.

 

**EDDIE  
** Well. I’ll be going now. Take care - Mikey.

 

He smiles and starts to walk away.

 

**MIKE  
** Hey -

 

Eddie looks back.

 

**MIKE  
** Will I see you again?

 

Eddie outright laughs.

 

**EDDIE  
** Why? Planning to take me up on that offer?

 

Mike looks blank for a moment - and then he remembers and flushes.

 

**MIKE  
** Come on.

 

**EDDIE**  
(chuckles)  
Who knows?  
(winks)  
Here’s looking at you, kid.

 

Mike tilts his head helplessly. Then Eddie is really leaving, and Mike watches him go.

 

** EXT. LONE PHONEBOOTH - LATER **

Mike is huddled alone, leaning slightly against the phonebooth. A familiar orange jeep pulls up.

Mike perks up and slowly gets to his feet as BRIGGS hops out of the jeep.

 

**BRIGGS**  
Hey, Mikey.  
(glances at Mike’s hand and leg)  
You look like hell, kid.

 

**MIKE  
** Yeah, I...hit a few snags. Did they get them?

 

**BRIGGS  
** Sure did. Mendoza -

 

**ARREST MONTAGE**

**BRIGGS (V.O.)**

\- the lot: hook, line, sinker. They didn’t seem too happy, I’ll tell you. Got the poor suckers in the basement out too. You didn’t do too badly for a rush job.

\- as Eddie and Mike’s pursuers file back into the warehouse, grumbling, the SWAT team bursts in, holding all at gunpoint 

\- gang members are roused from their beds

\- some SWAT team members descend through the grill

\- the trafficked immigrants are freed from their sewer cell and escorted up

 - We end on a SWAT team member speaking into a walkie-talkie outside the warehouse as Mendoza and his goons are walked out with handcuffs on

  **END MONTAGE**

 

**BRIGGS  
** Let’s go home, yeah? Get those looked at. You can go down to the station tomorrow.

 

He starts back to the jeep. Mike nods and tiredly follows.

 

**MIKE  
** Let’s go home.

 

**FADE TO BLACK.**

**FADE IN:**

** EXT. BEACHFRONT - MORNING **

 Mike is running next to the sea, earbuds in. Some time has passed, and his wounds have been healing well: he is favouring his bandaged leg only slightly. Beach Dog comes running up, BARKING happily, and Mike pauses to romp with him for a moment.

 

**MIKE  
** Hey, B.D.! Whoah, boy!

 

Suddenly, his MESSAGE TONE goes off. Keeping a hand on B.D.’s head, he slumps onto the sand, pulling out his phone and absently stroking the wriggling dog as he thumbs it on.

 

**MYSTERIOUS NUMBER (TEXT)  
** _You wanna fool around?_

 

That makes him sit up. His thumb moves to key a reply when another message arrives.

 

**EDDIE (TEXT)  
** _Nice dog, by the way._

 

Instantly, Mike turns his head to look behind and upwards as a shadow falls on the pair, B.D. rising to greet the newcomer, tail wagging.

Mike’s gaze settles, and his lips curve into a smile.

 

**FADE TO BLACK.**

**END OF ACT 4.**


End file.
